Read "My Novel, Book VIII" by Edward Bulwer-lytton online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
"Br the Lord, Harry! " cried the squire, as he stood with his wife in the park, on a visit of inspection to some first-rate Southdowns just added to his stock, -- "by the Lord, if that is not Randal Leslie trying to get into the park at the back gate! Hollo, Randal! you must come round by the lodge, my boy," said he. "You see this gate is locked to keep out trespassers."
"A pity," said Randal. "I like short cuts, and you have shut up a very short one."